


Hiss and Purr

by Demerite



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Cats, Cuddling & Snuggling, Flash Fic, Fluff, Kaer Morhen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 17:09:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23544562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demerite/pseuds/Demerite
Summary: Geralt and Jaskier spend winter at Kaer Morhen.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 7
Kudos: 218





	Hiss and Purr

It’s late when Geralt returns from his patrol. He doesn’t need to patrol, this early in the winter, but there’s an itch he can’t shake from so long on the road, that need to know that they’re safe before he can rest. He’s long since stopped questioning it, and just started doing nightly patrols instead. Sometimes, his brothers will join him, but tonight he was alone in the first falls of snow. 

Jaskier is still awake, his head poking out from under the furs when Geralt slips into their room. The fire has burnt low, casting the corners of the room into deep shadow, and the rest of it in a golden glow. Jaskier smiles when he sees him, and murmurs a soft greeting. 

Geralt crosses the small room, shedding weapons and boots and layers as he goes until he’s beside the bed in nothing more than his shirt. He’d sleep bare if the room was any warmer, and might still, just to feel the press of Jaskier’s skin against his. 

He lifts the edge of the furs, trying to let as little of the cold in as possible, but stills when he hears a disgruntled mew from the end of the bed. There are plenty of cats at Kaer Morhen, but most of them, like cats everywhere, avoid the Witchers in residence, appearing only to hiss and spit at them if they cross paths. 

So it stands to reason that when the large grey tabby cat curled up on the furs by Jaskier’s feet lifts her striped head and blinks golden eyes at him, Geralt is not expecting to see her there. 

“Shoo.” Geralt tells her. 

“Leave her be, she’s comfortable.” Jaskier objects, and when the cat doesn’t deign to move herself, Geralt just shrugs and slides under the furs beside Jaskier, burying his face against the bard’s neck even as Jaskier wriggles and complains about his nose being an icicle. 

They settle together. Jaskier is entirely bare, and he presses against Geralt’s chest and works warm hands under Geralt’s shirt until he gives up and tosses it aside. They curl close, and the last thing Geralt sees before he closes his eyes is Jaskier’s contented face as he rests his head on Geralt’s chest, and the grey cat settling back down to sleep again. 

The cat will come to her senses and run soon. She might have been soothed by Jaskier’s presence, but cats and Witchers don’t like each other after all. She’ll be gone by morning. 

Come morning, the cat is still there, curled in a ball by Geralt’s feet, and Jaskier is there too, pressed against his side. Geralt looks to the window, where the light is barely grey with morning, pulls the furs tighter over them, and goes back to sleep.


End file.
